


A Twist of Fate

by Remnant Stars (AerynsFallen)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode AU: s01e12 Skin Deep, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Gaston is an Idiot, Rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7970686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerynsFallen/pseuds/Remnant%20Stars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a single interaction changes fate. What might happen if Rumpelstiltskin encountered Belle before he met with Maurice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Twist of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> A Rumbelle one-shot that I always meant to expand on but never got around to. Written a couple years ago and cross-posted on FF.net.

They met on a summer day at the market. She was young, looking barely older than twenty. He was older, so much older. Old enough that he shouldn't have noticed the girl with her nose stuck in a book. She could have been anyone, except only a fraction of the town could read and very few had a desire to learn. He noticed her hair first, long and dark, falling in waves over her shoulder and resting on the pages of the book she was reading. He watched with amusement as she flicked her hair away in annoyance, her eyes barely pausing their rapid perusal of the page. He couldn't see much of the girl. She was a small thing and that was saying something. Rumpelstiltskin wasn't a tall man, or a heavyset one. His intimidation was more in his presence, his quirky mannerisms, his unpredictable mood swings. No one wanted to get on the Dark One's bad side.

He was here for one purpose, to strike a deal with Avonlea's ruler, Sir Maurice. But the girl was too intriguing to ignore. What was she doing here? Her clothes proved she was from a family of some means. She wore a simple dress, blue with white sleeves and collar but it looked soft, compared to the rough wool the villagers wore. She didn't have the darker, tanned skin many of the villagers had, from working long hours under a hot sun. She was pale, her skin smooth and unblemished. She should have been easy prey for anyone desperate to make any amount of money. She was young, beautiful and she wore more wealth on her in the form of the silver necklace at her throat then many of these people would see in a month's toil. But Rumpelstiltskin watched with increasing curiosity as no one bothered the girl, except to say a short greeting. She smiled at everyone that passed and her smile did something to him. A knot of anxiety and warmth gathered in his chest. He wanted to shake it away, or banish her from his sight. Instead he approached the girl.

The second thing that stood out to him was her eyes. A brilliant shade of blue. For a moment he was speechless, a small giggle of nervous habit escaping from his mouth. The girl didn't shy away, instead her inquisitive eyes crinkled as she smiled at him.

"Hello. I don't think I've seen you around here."

He shook his head mutely. She should know who he was, simply by his attire. A long dark cloak that hid his face from view. If she stared hard enough she might see his reptilian eyes, the shine of his scaled skin, the blackness of his mangled teeth. She should be afraid, or at the very least, uncomfortable. It wasn't something he could control, the feeling of uneasiness he inspired in others when he was near. It was good for business, but it made for a lonely existence.

Finally he found words, as her smile slipped just a little, her eyebrows raising in query. "No, I don't expect you have, dearie. Not many people want to see me around, unless they need something of course." He giggled maniacally, simply out of habit. He found he didn't want to scare the girl. She was the first not immediately put off at the sight of him.

"I'm sure that's not true. I'm Belle, and you are?"

"Pretty name. Does my name matter?" He wondered aloud. What was he to this girl, Belle but a passing stranger?

Belle shrugged. "I suppose if you don't feel comfortable giving it to me, I won't argue. What shall I call you, if not your name?"

Rumpelstiltskin was stumped. What should she call him? He could see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. The sight should anger him. No one laughed at The Dark One. But he enjoyed her teasing. No one had ever teased him in his memory. Hundreds of years and he didn't have a single friend, or even a friendly acquaintance. Funny how it had never mattered to him until this moment, with this girl's eyes shining at him. He decided he needed to squash this moment of vulnerability.

He swept his hood back with a flourish, revealing his reviled countenance. None of the villagers had taken notice of his presence before because he had chosen to remain hidden to all but her. A simple spell that redirected their attention. Whenever they meant to look this way, they simply ignored the urge and looked another way. Now he let them see, let _Belle_ see. He heard the gasps of course. The scared twittering of the panicked villagers. He heard a few drop to their knees, a few others run, a few others carefully slip away. And the others stood still, watching his interaction with the girl.

Belle blinked. "Your skin shines in the light." she said with wonder.

And once again Rumpelstiltskin was at a loss for words. He would think her simple if she wasn't capable of reading. Reading was a privilege, not a necessity. But her reaction was one of a kind. He'd expected a scream, a whimper, maybe some tears or a plea for mercy. Definitely not this.

She reached for his hand, her fingers tracing his skin. He flinched and transported them far from prying eyes. That knot of anxiety and warmth returned full force.

He leaped away from Belle with narrowed eyes. "Who are you?" he demanded with a hiss.

"Belle of Avonlea." She didn't seem to be the least disconcerted at appearing in another place, and alone with him of all things. "You still haven't told me your name."

He tilted his head and considered Belle. What to do with the girl who seemed unafraid of him. His reputation was well earned and well known. She should know who he was and she should be cowering at his feet.

"I am Rumpelstiltskin." He bowed, expecting to finally see a reaction he was used to.

Instead the girl smiled. "That's a nice name. I was afraid it would be terribly simple, like Greg or George."

Rumpelstiltskin was stumped for a moment and said the first thing that came to mind. "You don't like names beginning with 'g' then, dearie?"

Belle wrinkled her nose. "Not particularly. My fiancee's name is Gaston. He isn't the most intelligent man. He can swing a sword but sometimes that's not enough."

The thought of another man marrying Belle left him seething. Especially a man that couldn't appreciate the treasure he had. Wait, treasure? He shoved the thought away and grinned maliciously.

"I'm sure you'll grow to appreciate this Gaston. And if you don't love him, I'm sure you'll grow to love the comfort he can provide you. That is, I'm assuming a girl as lovely as you has managed to gain the attention of someone who at least lives comfortably." And why did the thought of Belle living in some hovel with a potentially useless oaf as a husband bother him?

Belle snorted. "I would sooner fall in love with a goat than I would fall in love with Gaston. He's about as bright as one, anyway, and just as stubborn. But he is superficial and terribly arrogant. When I look at him I see everything he is and it depresses me."

"Oh? And why, pray tell, does the thought of knowing your betrothed bother you? I thought a girl as smart as you would want to know what she was getting herself into."

Belle rolled her eyes. "Maybe, but what I know of Gaston makes me sick. I would become his brood mare, his prize to be shown off with little to no mind of my own. I don't want that life."

Rumpelstiltskin was even more intrigued. She had a fair understanding of what a wife's life would mean for her. She would be less than her husband, when she was clearly worth so much more. He sensed a deal in the making and couldn't help but rub his hands together in glee.

"And what life does Belle of Avonlea envision for herself?" He wondered aloud. He started to pace, circling her and sizing her up. Belle didn't seem to notice as she sat on a nearby rock and thought.

"I want adventure." Belle finally said. "I want to see what the world has to offer, to find out what _I_ have to offer the world. I don't want to be stuck as Gaston's wife, or any man's wife. Not unless I loved them, truly and deeply and without regret."

Rumpelstiltskin's laugh was shrill, tapering off into uninhibited giggles. "Dearie, where do you think you will find this love that is," he paused, his voice becoming mocking, " _true and deep and without regret?_ " He gestured around them. "I am no fairy godmother." He shuddered in distaste. "And I cannot provide you with love. I could send a worthy gentleman to cross your path perhaps." Not that there were many of those, or any worthy of his Belle. His Belle? When had he come to think of her as his?

"I don't need your help." Belle retorted, rearranging her skirts demurely as she settled on the rock she'd chosen as a seat. "When I fall in love, I'll know and no one else's opinion will matter."

Rumpelstiltskin giggled again. "I'm certain that you'd care when you no longer have your luxurious bed to sleep in, or the roof of a castle to sleep under."

Belle glared at him for the first time, clearly affronted. "And how would you know, Rumpelstiltskin?"

Rumpelstiltskin thought of his own wife, long-dead by his hand. A wife that had abandoned his son and him, leaving them to live as a pirate's whore. Simply because he'd been even less of a man than he was now. A coward to be sure, but Rumpelstiltskin was sure that her departure had more to do with the riches he'd never been able to provide for her. She'd left their son for comfort and he could never forgive her or any woman for that mistake. She'd paid dearly but his revenge wasn't enough, leaving a sour taste in his mouth when he'd wanted only relief from his torment.

"All woman are the same, dearie. They take and take, never satisfied with their lot. Even the poorest woman wants _something_ , whether it be food or a simple shack for shelter. But it doesn't stop there, because when they have that, they want more. A husband and children. And when they find those things are no longer enough, they want even more. Comfort and wealth and trinkets, until they realize that whatever they have could never be enough, could never make them happy."

He laughed in derision, suddenly realizing where he was. He looked at Belle, his eyes widening at what he saw, her eyes shining bright with tears.

"Who was she?" Belle asked softly.

He shook his head to clear it of his dark thoughts. "Who was who, dearie?"

"The woman that broke your heart."

He was in her face in the next moment, his teeth bared like an animal. He wanted to tear her apart at that moment, to rend her limbs from her torso, and crush the heart in her chest. His hand raised as if to strike her. "How _dare_ you!" It was then that he realized what he was about to do. He watched the fear grow in her eyes, but she stood strong, refusing to flinch at his angry display.

Rumpelstiltskin stepped back, ashamed of his own actions but not quite sure how to apologize. He hadn't apologized to anyone in years. And he'd never hit a woman, in anger or otherwise. He dropped his hand as if burnt and looked anywhere else but at Belle. It was a simple question, an accurate one. Milah had twisted him until he'd become obsessed with revenge, with power. Perhaps whatever feelings he'd once had for her could be considered love, or at the very least, a deep affection. And she'd thrown it away, thrown Bae and him away for that damn pirate Hook. She'd certainly broken Bae's heart and did her part to blacken his own.

"I'm sorry." He almost congratulated himself on getting the words out, but he realized after a moment that it was Belle who had spoken. He stared at her in surprise. The tears were still there, but the fear was replaced with remorse.

"I shouldn't have pried. Sometimes I don't think before I talk, the words escaping before I even realize how inappropriate they are. My father is always telling me my curiosity is a curse."

"No!" His denial was vehement. Her curiosity might get her into trouble one day, but that wasn't today. Without her curiosity she wouldn't be half as intelligent as she was now, and she might actually have resigned herself to marrying the boor Gaston. "What I mean, dearie is that perhaps I overreacted, just a little."

Belle's entire face lit up. "Is that your way of apologizing?" Rumpelstiltskin snorted. "Thank you."

A desperate voice filled his head, calling his name and reminding him that he had business to attend to. He bowed to Belle, something that made him feel a little ridiculous because it wasn't mocking in the least. But Belle was the first lady that deserved his respect. And he was determined to help her get away from Gaston.

"I must be going now dearie-"

"Please call me Belle."

He was glad she couldn't see the flush under his green skin. "Yes, well...I have some business. If you ever need anything, like maybe getting rid of unwanted suitors, or escaping from the humdrum life of Avonlea, just call my name. I'll hear you and we can make a deal."

"A deal?"

Rumpelstiltskin nodded, waving before disappearing. He hadn't transported them too far from the village and he was sure Belle could find her way home from there. He'd placed a small protection spell on her, just in case. It would only last an hour but it would be enough. He could feel the tingle of pain, magic always taking it's price. For once he didn't mind.

He considered going directly to Sir Maurice, making his usual grand entrance. But he wanted to savor meeting Belle for just a little longer so he headed back to the dark castle to let the pathetic Maurice stew in his own desperation. Rumpelstiltskin was no stranger to desperation, once upon a time it was his constant companion. And there was no one to provide him with relief. It was spiteful and a touch bitter, but he'd never claimed to be a good man, or even a man at all. He liked to wait, until those he dealt with would give him whatever he asked for. And Rumpelstiltskin had made up his mind on what he wanted. He wanted Belle, no matter whose daughter she was, or whose fiancee he was snatching her from. She would be an amusing companion, someone to be his sounding board. And she would be grateful for getting her out of a loveless marriage. Perhaps if he was even feeling charitable, which he rarely was, he might find her true love. The thought of Belle, wrapped in someone else's arms had him almost in a rage. So he quelled that notion. She would be fine without a true love, as long as he kept her entertained with books and perhaps a few adventures. He would see that she was content and she would never leave his side.

* * *

Belle's father, Maurice was pacing anxiously, muttering to himself. Gaston had his hand on the pommel of his sword, stroking it softly and staring darkly at the door. Belle was as anxious as both of them, wondering where Rumpelstiltskin could have went. He'd been on the way to the castle, of that she was certain. So what had happened between there and here that had delayed him for so long? It had been two hours. She was beginning to get worried and that was a ridiculous thought. Rumpelstiltskin was the most feared being in the Enchanted Forest. No one would dare attack him. But still she worried. What if he'd been attacked by bandits, unaware of who he was? She wanted to pace with her father but she needed to appear calm, for her father's sake. They were fighting a losing battle against ogres that were threatening their front gates. If Rumpelstiltskin knew just how desperate they were, what would he ask for in return for his help? She'd heard horrid tales of children taken as payment, then skinned alive and served to the very same ogres they fought against. She'd half-believed the tales and had shuddered at the images in her head. But she'd changed her mind, only that day. The man, albeit the odd-looking, slightly reptilian-featured man she'd met two hours before had been intriguing. Cruel perhaps, but she thought that might have more to do with his lack of outside communication than his inherent nature. He'd had no outside contact with the world except for his deals, and with whatever woman who'd been cruel enough to break his heart. Was it any surprise he had a skewed vision of what brought happiness? She would bet her father's castle the man was simply lonely, but had no idea of it.

Finally her father seemed at the end of his rope. He threw his hands up in surrender. "He isn't coming!"

Belle shook her head in denial. "Of course he is!" He hadn't changed his mind, had he? What if he'd known who she was and had just been playing with her? What if he'd known she was aware of who he was and was punishing them for some reason? Maybe she should have shown her fear a little more? Or paid him more respect?

Just when Gaston's hand dropped from his pommel, and her father began to storm away in a childish rage a voice spoke behind them. Mocking and high-pitched, it made her shiver, not in fear but anticipation. He had come and soon he would save them all.

"Well I wasn't about to let you down, was I?"

And there he sat, on her father's throne, one leg thrown carelessly over an arm of the seat, his body sprawled as if he owned it. Gaston advanced towards Rumpelstiltskin with his sword raised. Rumpelstiltskin paid it no mind, pushing the blade aside carelessly as if it were made of wood. He stood up and brushed his clothes off.

"You sent me a message." He smirked and began to circle them. "Something about 'Help, help! Can you save us? We're dying!'," He paused, "Now the answer is, yes I can. For a price."

Belle could see her father's face growing red with anger and frustration. "We sent you an offer of gold!"

Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand in dismissal. "Well, you see, I, ah, _make_ gold." he drew close, almost in Maurice's face. "What I want, is something a bit more _special_. My price...is her." He pointed to Belle, who was standing almost directly behind her father.

"No! You cannot have her! Belle is mine!" Gaston pushed Belle behind him and stepped forward threateningly. "We are engaged!"

Rumpelstiltskin scoffed. "Engaged? I'm not interested in _love._ I'm looking for a caretaker. Someone to clean my rather large estate."

"I forbid it!" roared Maurice. "I demand you leave at once!"

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged in indifference and started to walk towards the door. Belle knew it was a ploy. If he truly wanted to leave he could have merely disappeared from their view in a cloud of smoke or something. Rumpelstiltskin was nothing if not grandiose and over the top. She knew what she must do and far from being terrified, she was almost excited. She was getting the opportunity to escape her marriage from Gaston, and saving her father's kingdom in the process.

"Wait!" Belle called out, her voice slightly breathless from her excitement.

Rumpelstiltskin turned slowly, the grin on his face showing he knew he'd won. He looked almost devious in his joy, but Belle felt only warmth. She was leaving her small kingdom behind and he was helping her to do it and she wouldn't have to feel an ounce of guilt. But she knew of Rumpelstiltskin's deals. He never failed to have the upper hand in his deals, making every deal truly worth his while. She needed to make sure he understood what she was asking for.

"If I go with you, you must promise my family, friends and every citizen in my kingdom is safe. They will all live." She stared deep in his eyes as he nodded solemnly.

"But of course, dearie. On my honor as a deal-maker. They will live, every single one."

"And the ogres are never to return." It was a hefty demand and Rumpelstiltskin's eyes flashed with his anger. She felt for just a moment, the desire to step back from him. But bravery was not given, it was earned.

Rumpelstiltskin sneered but nodded shortly. "They will not return...as long as I should live. I can make no guarantees from the grave." Belle nodded, appeased. "It's forever, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin cautioned.

"Forever." agreed Belle with a firm nod.

"No Belle!" Maurice was desperate, clinging to Belle's arm and squeezing until his grip bruised.

Belle shook him off. "No one decides my fate but me. And the deal has already been struck." Belle hugged him tightly and pleaded. "Please papa, understand. We're saved, and that is a good thing."

"She's right dearie, the deal has been struck. She's mine to do with as I please."

Gaston charged at Rumpelstiltskin, but in his rage he was clumsy. Rumpelstiltskin sidestepped his attack and Gaston crashed to the ground. Rumpelstiltskin gave his side a swift kick, glaring at him in distaste. "My, what an oaf you've turned out to be. Belle is quite lucky to escape from you." Without another word he grasped Belle's arm firmly but gently and led her out of the room. The moment the door shut behind them he transported them somewhere else.

Belle had wanted to protest as she was led from her old life into a new one. She would never go back on her word to never leave, but she would never see her papa again. And she hadn't had even a moment to say goodbye.

"I didn't get to say goodbye!" She finally cried, as Rumpelstiltskin led her up the stone steps of his forbidding castle.

Rumpelstiltskin was distracted, wondering where he would put Belle. In the dungeon wouldn't do. It was cold and damp and he didn't want the girl to hate him from the start. The hate would come later, he was more than certain. No need to rush things. "Say goodbye to who, dearie?"

"My father! I didn't even get to say goodbye." Belle burst into tears.

And now his new maid was crying. Rumpelstiltskin had not a clue what to do. How did he get the girl to quit? And soon? "Uh...yes, well. I'm certain you can write him a letter or two. Goodbye is so final, wouldn't you agree?"

And thankfully the tears stopped. The smile she gave him was small but genuine. He was startled, and just a little frightened when Belle threw her arms around him and hugged him. For the few brief seconds that the hug lasted he remained frozen, his limbs as stiff as a statue. Should her hug her back? Should he push her away? He had the strongest urge to do both. But before he could decide she had already pulled away, her face scarlet with her embarrassment.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to invade your personal space."

"It's no matter." Rumpelstiltskin waved his hand in dismissal, hoping the colour of his skin hid the slight redness of his cheeks.

There was an awkward silence that seemed to drag on. Belle was suddenly very interested in his thick curtains, and the mural painted across his ceiling. She seemed eager to look anywhere but at him. And he was grateful for the moments he had to get a hold of himself, to once again affect an air of indifference.

"Shall I show you to your room?" At Belle's nod, he led the way to the curving stairway that led to the upper levels. The walk to her room remained silent but comfortable, as Belle took in her surroundings.

Rumpelstiltskin decided on a pale blue room. It wasn't the largest guestroom but it was the cleanest, most rooms covered in layers of dust. This room he chose to air out regularly, fueled by the irrational hope that Bae would one day return. Bae had always liked the color blue. Perhaps he would give Belle a different room later, but for tonight at least, this room would suffice. Rumpelstiltskin entered the room and turned, eager to see Belle's reaction to his choice. He was certain she was used to luxury but with his magic he could make it into the most luxurious room she'd ever seen. Even on the walk up, he'd adjusted the room accordingly, from a masculine interior to a more feminine one. Her bed had remained the same size, but the headboard's carved scenes of knights had been replaced by a homage to her interest in reading. Pictures of books, quills and parchment had been scattered across the headboard. The bed now also had a canopy, fabric of pale blue silk adorning the bed, with matching sheer curtains falling from the top rails. The room's decorations were minimal, Rumpelstiltskin deciding that he would give Belle a choice of her furnishings.

"It's beautiful." Belle hesitated. "It's truly mine?"

Rumpelstiltskin tilted his head in confusion. "But of course, dearie. Why do you ask?"

"I just thought as your servant, that I might stay somewhere...better suited to my station."

He felt a moment's anger at Belle's easy judgment but he shoved it back. He was, after all, named the Dark One for a reason. He was not known for his charity or kindness. It was a valid assumption on Belle's part. "The dungeon perhaps, dearie? Or the stable?" He snorted. "Well, maid you might be, I won't have you being exhausted for a hard day's toil. Sleeping in substandard accommodations reflects on the quality of your work and I won't permit that. It is simply good thinking on my part." There, he'd managed to save face and give a valid reason for his charitableness.

Belle nodded, but the small smile on her lips betrayed her disbelief at his explanation.

Rumpelstiltskin clapped his hands together. "Well, I'll let you settle in. I have potions to brew, deals to seal. I'll explain your duties in the morning." He left the room quickly, making sure to close the door soundly behind him as he rushed to the sanctuary of his own room.

That night he found it difficult to fall asleep. He kept picturing her face, her blue eyes, quick smile and pale, smooth skin. Could she truly see past his ugly countenance? Was she truly unafraid of him? Or was she simply playing him? His mind was quick to say yes, but the ache in his chest told him to trust her, to believe in the impossible. He finally fell asleep to the image of her smiling face.

He awoke early as he always did. He was tempted to check in on Belle, but felt that it would be too intrusive, even for him. He was lost in his thoughts as he found his way into his dining room. He sat down at his usual spot at the head of the table, unaware of Belle's presence.

Belle had frozen the moment Rumpelstiltskin had entered the room. He seemed completely unaware of her presence, mumbling inaudibly as he sat down. She watched him for a moment, unsure what to do. In her hands she carried a tray of tea on it. She'd just been debating if she should bring it upstairs to his room or simply call for him. She set the tray down on the table and the noise seemed to bring Rumpelstiltskin out of his daze.

"Belle?" He eyed the tray with curiosity. "For me?'

Belle nodded, suddenly nervous under his studied gaze. "Yes. I couldn't fall back asleep so I thought I'd make you something to eat." She chewed her lip. "There didn't seem to be much in any of the cupboards. What I did find was no longer good to eat. I found an abundance of tea leaves though. I figured you must like that at least."

Rumpelstiltskin nodded. "Yes, I don't eat much. Tea keeps me going."

Belle frowned in rebuke. "No wonder you look so thin! I hope that from now on you'll at least let me make you dinner. Deals and potions seems like a lot of work."

"You have no idea." muttered Rumpelstiltskin, unsure how to respond to her concern. He wanted to be angry at her for daring to dictate anything he did, but he found he was rather pleased by it, and her.

Belle picked up the teapot, ready to pour his tea. "So what would you have me do around here, besides serving you tea and cooking your dinner?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned wickedly, eager to shock her. "You will serve me _all_ my meals and share them with me. You will clean the dark castle. You will dust my collection and launder my clothes." He waited until she nodded her understanding. "You will fetch me fresh straw when I'm spinning at the wheel." He paused as she agreed, eager to see her reaction to his next demand. She started to pour his tea. "Oh! And you will skin the children I hunt for their pelts!"

Belle let out a sharp gasp, instantly dropping the cup she was holding. He started to smile, but realized that she was truly distressed. "That one was a quip," he assured her. "Not serious."

She dropped to her knees, quick to pick up the cup she'd dropped. When she looked up at him, her lip was trembling as she held the cup out for him to see. "I'm so sorry, it-it's chipped." She stared at the cup as if willing it to repair itself. "You can hardly see it."

He found that teasing her wasn't as amusing as he hoped, as the smirk dropped from his face. "Well, it's just a cup." He watched as she hurriedly poured his tea, offering him an unbroken cup, and saving the chipped one for herself. Instead, he turned the tray around and grabbed the cup with the chip. She watched with wide eyes as he sipped his tea.

"Perfect, Belle. I hope you can make tea this superbly every time."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "But the chip."

Rumpelstiltskin continued to sip his tea. "As I said, it's just a cup and I think I prefer it this way."

Belle offered a hesitant smile, and Rumpelstiltskin was glad that she was overcoming whatever apprehension his earlier quip had caused. He wondered at the sudden change from stern caretaker to timid mouse. His reputation had often preceded him, including the oft told tale of his penchant for dealing for children and serving them up to the ogres. He wondered if she'd heard that tale, and how much she'd truly known about him before she'd agreed to be his caretaker. He decided to find out and dispel any false rumours she might have heard about him.

And then he realized that she must have at least heard of him as it was her father who'd called him. And though he meant to shock her with his earlier quip, her reaction to it showed she'd at least heard the tale. She'd acted as if he was only confirming something she knew but hadn't wanted to believe. Before he'd made the decision to deal for Belle, he hadn't been certain he'd make a deal with her father Maurice at all. Maurice hadn't had anything he'd wanted. Until he met Belle. And though there was no way she could have known what he'd chosen to ask for, she might have been trying to gain favor.

"Did you know who I was, when we met that first time?"

Belle jumped at his voice and shot him a look full of guilt. "Yes I did. Does that bother you?"

Bother him? Yes it did. It meant that she'd duped him, though she didn't seem to mean any malice by it. He wanted to yell at her, to throw her in the dungeon until the anger subsided. Instead he steepled his fingers and thought carefully about his next words.

He spoke softly, slowly so as not to betray his anger. "So you were simply pretending not to know me?"

Belle dropped her head in shame. "In a way, I suppose. I didn't realize immediately who you were. I was so lost in my book. But as soon as you spoke I knew, and I admit I was a little afraid." Her eyes pleaded for his understanding. "I thought that if I did the brave thing, then bravery would follow. And then I realized you didn't seem very frightful at all, simply a little odd, and it became easier."

"What did you hope to accomplish by _acting brave_? Did you hope I would be lenient? Did you hope I would take pity on you?" His last sentence was spit out. He regretted it now, trading her people's safety for this deceitful girl.

"No!" Belle insisted. "You have it wrong. I only wanted to trust you. I only wanted the assurance that the man my father dealt with would not betray us."

"But I'm not a man, now am I?" Rumpelstiltskin shoved away from the table, circling Belle.

He could see that she was choosing to be stubborn, to confront him rather than admit how vile she truly was. She jutted her chin out, her brows creasing. "But you are a man! And you saved my people! Why are you angry when I meant no harm?"

"Because you lied, dearie!" He hissed. "You lied, like every woman does, hoping to manipulate me."

"No, Rumpelstiltskin. You're twisting my intentions around, turning them into something they're not! If I was truly trying to manipulate you, why didn't I plead for a different deal? Why did I agree to come here when I believed that I would never see my family again?"

"Perhaps you'd planned to kill me in an unguarded moment. Perhaps you thought I would give you everything you wanted, away from the fiancee you admittedly despised!"

"And perhaps I thought I might like it here!" declared Belle with an angry retort. "But maybe I was wrong. Clearly you are so deluded you can't recognize the truth! I met you, was frightened so I chose to talk to you, to face my fear. And in facing my fear of you, you made me see it was ill-conceived. You offered me a deal, which I accepted. Not to kill you, not to manipulate you as you might think. Simply to save my people from the ogres at our front gate!"

Rumpelstiltskin sneered. "And you expect me to believe that, dearie? That the brave heroine was so very _willing_ to throw herself at the mercy of the beast."

"Believe what you want," declared Belle. "I'm going to my room until you see sense!" She turned abruptly and stormed out of the room.

He sat in his chair, completely clueless on what to do. If he hadn't met her first, before their deal he would have thrown her in the dungeon for her impudence. He probably would have thrown her in the dungeon the night they'd arrived. But they _had_ met, and what he felt for the girl, from even the shortest encounter was enough to give him pause.

Belle was crying into her pillow, trying to be quiet, in case Rumpelstiltskin started to slam on her door. She was certain that her hours in this room were numbered. He was probably going to throw her in the dungeon. She never once thought that he would break their deal; send her home, and let the ogres ravage her land. Rumpelstiltskin was devious, cruel on occasion, but above all he was a deal-maker and he'd proven honest in his dealings.

And that meant that she was stuck here with him forever. Only he could dictate how miserable her life might become. If he was honest to the letter of their agreement, she felt she could only do the same in return. So she would not try to run.

There was a knock on the door. At first she was certain she'd imagined it. She held her breath when it sounded again, a little louder.

"Belle?"

She almost refused to answer. He'd insulted her by accusing her of trying to manipulate him. Her aching heart urged her to shut him out. But he sounded so timid, a first in their encounters.

"What do you want, Rumpelstiltskin?"

He cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

"So you can insult me some more?"

"No...I just want to talk."

She gave her consent, watching him closely as he entered the room. He seemed regretful, his head bowed and footsteps shuffling. But she wasn't ready to forgive him just yet. She'd only tried, if not to befriend him, then to be friendly with him. And he'd reacted like a stray dog might, with barbed words and anger to a gesture of kindness.

Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her and she felt her resolve to remain angry with him weaken. His reptilian eyes were wide with remorse. He looked like a chastened schoolboy, waiting to be punished.

"Well?"

"Look Belle, I didn't mean to accuse you." Belle raised an eyebrow. He amended his explanation. "Well, perhaps I was simply blinded by previous experiences. I shouldn't have reacted so fiercely to your explanation."

And just like that Belle was smiling. It was a small one, barely there, but it was a start. "Is that your way of apologizing?"

Rumpelstiltskin shrugged noncommittally but Belle's smile grew just a little. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, clearly trying to say something.

"Rumpel?" It was unintentional, shortening his name. He looked startled for a moment, then inordinately pleased.

"Would you like to join me for breakfast?"

"And who will make our breakfast?" teased Belle. "Will you magic some poor baker here to make us bread? Maybe steal the food off some poor unsuspecting person's plate?"

Rumpelstiltskin grinned, and the almost-frenzied creature she knew had returned. "Oh dearie, why would I give up my secrets? I can only promise that you won't have to lift a finger."

Breakfast was enjoyable. They'd moved past the earlier episode easily, and Belle found the newly nicknamed Rumpel possessed a dry wit that made her laugh. He'd waved off her offer to clean up their breakfast dishes. It didn't mean there weren't other duties to be done. Once Belle had been shooed out of the kitchen, she'd finally looked around her surroundings and realized with dismay just how much work needed to be done. The entire castle was covered in a thick layer of dust. There was clutter everywhere, and every surface made of metal was in dire need of polishing. She searched until she found a bucket and rags to clean with. Rumpel gave her leave to travel to the well on the grounds to get water. He'd seemed regretful that she was now actually fulfilling the reason she'd been brought here, but he hadn't argued. A deal was a deal.

By the end of the day Belle was exhausted beyond belief. Rumpelstiltskin had somehow filled his cupboards and icebox with more food than either of them could eat in a month. Yet she wasn't used to toiling the entire day, scrubbing hard floors on her hands and knees. She'd barely finished scrubbing the winding staircases by the front entrance by the time she was supposed to make dinner. She'd prepared sandwiches with a broth, nervous at Rumpelstiltskin's reaction to the simple fare. She'd been trained to cook, though barely. He had beamed at her dinner as if it was the grandest feast he'd ever set eyes upon. Belle swore she'd become a better cook for both their sakes.

Rumpelstiltskin had given her leave to entertain herself for the evening, as he had some business. Belle had been too exhausted to do anything but drag her tired aching body up the steps to her bedroom. She'd been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow.

The next few weeks were exhausting as Belle worked to get the castle cleaned from top to bottom. She'd searched for a book of recipes early the next morning, and tried a simple meal the next night. She'd fallen into a rhythm after about a week. She woke at dawn and went downstairs to prepare tea and biscuits for their breakfast. They ate together, the conversation always easy and companionable. Rumpelstiltskin would always insist on clearing the breakfast dishes, Belle suspecting he did so with magic. Belle would then find a new task for the day while Rumpelstiltskin would disappear to the room at the top of the highest tower where he brewed potions, created spells, and planned his deals. Belle would bring him up a light midday meal, if only to remind him of his empty stomach. She often wondered how little he'd eaten before her arrival. After only a few weeks he had filled out slightly, the added weight suiting him better than the almost-skeletal frame he'd had before.

Belle would occupy herself with cleaning most of the day, only resting once or twice for a brief break. When the sun began it's descent she started their dinner, choosing a new recipe from her book to try out. Her meals were not always a success, too many charred or over salted or tasteless for her liking. But Rumpelstiltskin acted the same as the first time, eagerly digging into his dinner. After dinner she was free to do as she pleased. Often she found herself sitting on a stool near Rumpelstiltskin's spinning wheel with a book in her hand, reading aloud to him as he spun his straw into gold. It was relaxing for both of them, interrupted only when she had to fetch him more straw. When her eyes grew heavy, and Rumpelstiltskin began to yawn she knew it was time to sleep. They said their goodnights and Belle went to her room reluctantly, sad that their time together had come to an end.

She wrote her father regularly, securing her rolled letters to a pigeon that carried them to her father's kingdom. She had no idea of the distance between The Dark Castle and her father's. It always took several days at the least to gain a reply. At first her letters were filled with reassurances that she was well and taken care of. She wrote of the satisfaction she felt after a hard day's work. She wrote of how beautiful the castle and grounds were. She mentioned Rumpelstiltskin very little. Any time she did her father's reply was always filled with outrage. She could understand his ire. Belle had always been one to downplay her anxiety. She found it easier to focus on anyone else's issues but her own, helping people soothing her own angst. People called her selfless, she believed she was quite the opposite. Her father believed she was lying to him about how contented she truly was with Rumpelstiltskin. The only thing missing was the chance to leave the castle grounds, even for a few hours. The grounds were beautiful, the dark forbidding landscape that once surrounded the castle being magically transformed into a veritable wonderland. There was a garden that Rumpel had filled with roses, Belle's favorite flower. There was a pond she enjoyed sitting beside with a book on lazy days, or dipping her feet in on warm ones. There were rolling hills, breathtaking sunsets and numerous places she could sit beneath a shady tree and simply relax, watching the clouds drift by. She felt truly happy in the land Rumpelstiltskin had created for her. She knew much of it was an illusion. Rumpel himself had told her that the castle grounds were large, just not large enough to fit all that she saw. But it _felt_ real, the warmth of the sun, the cool caress of the morning breeze, the fragrance of roses that surrounded her everywhere she walked, the cold shock of water on bare toes. And he had given that to her. But sometimes it wasn't enough. It was familiar and safe and she feared that one day she would grow to hate it.

Belle had never broached the subject with Rumpelstiltskin, fearing he would think she was simply looking for a way to escape. She knew that he didn't always trust her, that in his darkest moments he could grow to hate her if she gave him enough reason. He was a complicated man, a mystery to discover. She liked that about him. But it made it difficult to see the man behind the imp, the gentle creature that hid behind exaggerated mannerisms and a mask of cruel avarice. Not that she hadn't come to appreciate his quirky peculiarities. She just wished that one day he would trust her enough to let her past his well-fortified defenses.

The night was a quiet one. Rumpelstiltskin was spinning, Belle sitting beside him with an open book in her lap. But it had been a busy day cleaning out several rooms that hadn't seen sunlight in years. It seemed that just when she thought she was done cleaning she found another room in the castle. She was exhausted, her eyelids threatening to close as she swayed in her seat. She'd seated her stool right next to his so she wouldn't have to speak very loud while reading. Even her voice was hoarse from breathing dusty air and sneezing too many times to count. Rumpelstiltskin appeared to be intent on his spinning, not noticing when her voice died. It wasn't until she actually fell against him, half-asleep that he seemed to realize how tired she was. His arm came around her automatically, holding her against his side as her eyes drifted shut.

"Belle?" He seemed to be holding his breath, his body rigid against hers.

"Hmm?" She couldn't even open her mouth to formulate a reply with how exhausted she was. Rumpelstiltskin tried to push her upright, and away from him but she would have none of it. He was solid and comfortable to lean against and he smelled nice, like woodsmoke and roses and musk. She burrowed closer, throwing her arms around his waist and leaning into him, her stool tipping precariously.

"Belle!" The alarm in his voice caused her to look up, their noses brushing, faces only centimeters apart.

She was finally beginning to wake, only now realizing how inappropriate their position was. His eyes were wide, reptilian pupils blown with some emotion that stirred butterflies in Belle's stomach. He was staring at her lips and her mouth was suddenly dry. She licked her lips in nervous habit and Rumpel groaned, a noise that seemed to snap them both out of whatever stupor had held them.

Belle fell backwards, landing heavily on her bottom. Her face flamed bright red as she struggled to her feet. The moment was broken as Rumpelstiltskin smirked at her.

"You really are quite clumsy dearie." He stood up and reached his hand out.

Belle took it begrudgingly and let him pull her to her feet. "I might be clumsy but that one was your fault."

Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow. "And how was this my fault? Did I push you out of my lap?"

Belle stamped her foot in frustration. "I was _not_ in your lap! And it was your fault because you startled me!"

Rumpelstiltskin only smirked and patted her head. "It's okay, dearie. You can blame me this time."

Belle didn't know what she was doing. It was a split-second decision, formed and followed through before she even realized what was happening. She only knew that she wanted to wipe the smirk from his face.

His lips were dry, his skin just a little rough. His mouth opened in what she could only assume was shock, his tongue darting out to taste her lips in startled reaction. She should have stepped back, but the feel of his mouth against hers, the tantalizing brush of his tongue had her pressing closer. She'd only ever kissed Gaston. Those kisses she'd wished to be completely chaste. Every time he'd tried to push her for more, his wet tongue shoving itself into her mouth she'd almost gagged. Gaston was unrefined in the worst way possible. He pushed his attentions onto her with the arrogant belief that she would enjoy them, simply because he was handsome. His lips were always wet with saliva, his kisses forceful to the point of discomfort as his teeth ground against her mouth painfully. Belle always sighed in relief when he finally pulled away, or when she shoved him away. She couldn't imagine having to do that every day, or ever wanting to.

With Rumpel it was different. He was hesitant at first, his lips unmoving. She wanted to taste him, so she ran her tongue gently against the crease of his lips. Finally he responded, tilting his head at her pleased sigh, the kiss deepening. Their tongues tangled together, her body humming with a new awareness. Her hands cupped his face, keeping his mouth against hers. The rough scaled texture of his skin didn't bother her. But after a moment she grew confused. As exciting as the kiss was, his face seemed to change texture. She pulled away for just a moment. Rumpelstiltskin stared at her, questioning her startled gasp.

"Rumpel, your skin!" His complexion was more tan than green, his scales receding to skin. His eyes were a dark brown, watching her in confusion. Even his hair had lost some of the curl, becoming simply wavy and losing the green tinge.

He stepped back immediately, his face ducking. "I know what I look like dearie. There is no need to point out my deficiencies."

Belle could feel him pulling away from her, the more human aspects that had started to take over starting to fade back into the countenance she had known. "No Rumpel! Your face, it was becoming human!" She had no better words to describe it in her confusion. She did not believe he was any less human than she was, but his appearance could never be described as anything less than odd. And she'd never been bothered by it but already she could see the perceived rejection on his face. The cruel smirk he hid behind turning his lips up. She shivered at the rage in his eyes.

"Was that your plan all along?" His angry demand had her stepping back in confusion.

"What do you mean, Rumpel? I don't understand what's happening!"

He started to pace as she looked on with dread. He seemed to be struggling with himself muttering in a voice too low for her to hear. She wasn't sure what to do, the unfamiliar but pleasant ache between her legs fading into a dull throb in her temples.

"Rumpel?"

"Quiet! I need quiet."

Belle dropped onto his stool, for once uncertain what to do. Rumpelstiltskin finally turned towards her and glared at her.

"I need to know one thing."

"Anything." Belle vowed.

"Why did you... _kiss_ me?"

"Why did I...?" Belle frowned in consideration. Why had she kissed him, beyond the need to wipe the smirk off his face? She would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about doing it before. His appearance had never been something that repulsed her as it had many others. Her nights had become an interesting mix of waking up with an ache between her legs and Rumpel's name on her lips. She could never remember many details of the dreams she had. She only knew that they could be called inappropriate at best. The answer seemed to become simple to her.

"Because I wanted to."

Rumpelstiltskin looked flabbergasted at her response. "Why?"

Belle sighed in exasperation. "Why else? I think the term is called attraction. You're unbelievably clever, you make me laugh, you're sweet and kind even when you try to convince me you aren't, you kiss better in person than in my dreams, you excite me..." Belle's voice died at Rumpelstiltskin's raised eyebrow. "Maybe that was too much sharing." She muttered with a blush.

"Oh, keep going, dearie." he urged with a wicked smirk.

Belle shook her head. "Rumpel, we both know that you are more than my friend, or my master. I think...I think I love you."

Once the words were said aloud she realized how true they were. Beyond the way he made her body feel, with simply a look, there was the way he made her feel simply when he was present. The mix of affection, admiration, exasperation, joy and a million other emotions only he'd ever inspired so easily pointed to one conclusion. She'd simply been oblivious to it before now.

"I love you." She declared more confidently.

Belle could read the sudden fear in his eyes, could see the wall he was already building against the emotions her declaration inspired. And if he rejected her now, she would never have this chance again.

"Rumpelstiltskin, _please_ believe me. Please don't shut me out. I love you, and that isn't going to change. I promise that I'm not her, whatever woman hurt you. I'm simply me, Belle and I truly love you."

"Without regret?" Rumpelstiltskin seemed to be softening, her words striking a chord within him.

Belle nodded adamantly, throwing her arms around him as if she could physically stop him from pulling away from her. "Without regret, Rumpel."

He was quiet for a moment but his arms circled around her and held her gently, giving her hope. "Milah."

"Is that her name?" Belle held her breath.

"Yes." confirmed Rumpelstiltskin. "It _was_ her name. I killed her for leaving me. Perhaps I'd kill you once you left me."

The words were meant to scare her, perhaps to push her away but they only filled Belle with sadness at his certainty she'd leave him.

"I'd never leave you willingly so I think that would never be an issue."

Rumpelstiltskin laughed bitterly. "And your responses still surprise me. Maybe I could believe you, Belle. First let me tell you a story, and then we'll see if you still believe you love me."

In the blink of an eye they were in the library, the place Rumpelstiltskin had gifted to Belle for her own particular use. She'd been astounded the first time he'd brought her in here and said it was hers. Belle settled herself in the loveseat she often stretched out on with a book. She patted the cushion beside her for Rumpelstiltskin to sit. He sat beside her with a deep breath, keeping his distance and began to speak.

He talked for hours, explaining so many years of his life. Belle didn't interrupt, certain he needed to make peace with his past. He gravitated towards her during the telling, until she was curled into his side, her fingers combing through his hair, as she rested her chin on his shoulder. He explained his beginnings, his life as a poor spinner, his arranged marriage to Milah. Milah, a woman he'd adored at first, but seemed to hate him. He was a cripple, shamed by his desertion from the army fighting the ogres, ravaging the land even then. He was a coward who'd only wanted to see his wife and son, to live to care for them. Perhaps Milah had simply been indifferent to him before the war but after he'd come home she'd grown to despise him. The only moments he'd found joy had been with his only son, Baelfire. He told her of the love he had for his boy Bae. He told her of Milah's desertion, of Bae's devastation at her apparent death. He told her of the hate he'd begun to harbor and that had started to fester. The hate he had for a woman who'd deserted her son, for the ogres that destroyed everything in their wake, for the soldiers that taunted him about his cowardice, for the army that would take his son away from him. The only thing he loved left, stolen from him.

He told her about the Dark One's manipulation, the confusion once he'd stabbed the man and gained his power. He explained the horror he felt at the change in his appearance, and the primal satisfaction he felt at finally being able to do something to the men who'd made his life miserable. He'd been at a crossroads, and the dark magic at his fingertips took him over. He told her of his gleeful slaughter, of the fear on his dear Bae's face when Rumpelstiltskin had stood before him, covered in so many other men's blood. The hesitation and fear he exhibited when Rumpelstiltskin held out his hand. He should have stopped there, perhaps hidden Bae and himself from the world to stop the monster he would become. But he hadn't, and in the end he'd driven the one thing he still loved far away. He told her of Milah's death by his own hand, of the enemy he'd made out of Hook. He told her that in his darkest moments he relived her death and rejoiced.

He explained how he'd chosen power over Bae, and how Bae had chosen to run away from him. How Bae was now in a land without magic, living his life far from his father, a father that was desperately remorseful. A father who'd looked for so many years for a way to be reunited with his son. He told her everything, of his plan to help Regina for his own gain. Of the consequences of his actions, not just for Snow White, but for their entire world.

And when he finished Belle held him, clutched him to her in fear of what would come. How could she condemn him for his love for his son? And so many aspects of his story haunted her, but she saw the man behind the monster he portrayed. She saw the regret written in his anguished expression, heard it in the remorse that rang through his voice. And still she loved him, as flawed and broken as he was. He was still Rumpelstiltskin, still _her Rumpel_. And she told him so.

The moment was not a perfect one. It wasn't light or warm. It wasn't peaceful or joyful. It was a moment of shared anguish, she for Rumpelstiltskin's loss, he for his own wretched memories. But it was theirs. So he spoke the words he'd never said aloud, to any woman. Not to Milah, not even in their earliest years together before shared struggle had turned to mutual disdain.

"I love you Belle."

Their kiss was desperation, gentled into deep affection. It spoke volumes of what they'd just shared, words put to action. Belle tried to convey to him how much she loved him, that she would not leave him, no matter the dark deeds of his past. Rumpelstiltskin took solace, from her lips, from the woman who opened to him so readily, who welcomed him despite the monster he believed he was. He cursed the need for breath when they finally pulled apart, gasping. Still, he kissed her, unable to lose contact, light kisses on her lips that conveyed all he felt for her.

Belle smiled just for him, showing him that despite the seriousness of the moment she was happy. She got to her feet and held out her hand.

"I think that a room would be better for anything else that might occur, don't you agree?" she suggested with a raised eyebrow.

Rumpelstiltskin smirked, shoving his darker emotions away. "Of course, Belle. Anything you ask is yours."

"You. All I ask for is you."

"You have a deal."

Rumpelstiltskin took Belle's hand and in the next moment the library was empty, the castle silent except for the blue room on the second floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to edit this one due to some mistakes that have been bothering me but it's so long. I'll get to it eventually. Thanks for reading :)


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